


Insomnia Drips

by lightbaekii



Category: EXO, EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Conflict, Drama, Gen, Heavy Angst, Insomnia, M/M, Past Character Death, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8054578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightbaekii/pseuds/lightbaekii
Summary: Luhan progressively finds it more difficult to paint perfect paintings. His progression through his insomnia and schizophrenia tear him into different worlds to where he can face the broken reality between his friends, or go through hell and back in his little world to create his own perfect ending. Time passes and he can't seem to find the difference between what's real or not. Everyone's problems have been ignored by Luhan through his own issues, and things continue to build up and break down. And still, reality and imagination continue to yank him back and forth.





	Insomnia Drips

Rattles interrupted the unsteady wall of silence within the lonely workshop. Calloused and paint stained fingertips traced the wood handle of an old brush, taking it out and setting it beside the rest of his necessary mediums. Sighing, he grabbed a blank canvas that was hidden among the trashed paintings that he never signed “Luhan” on. Right as he set it on the easel that creaked with vivid memories of frustration, a knock was heard, making his shoulders jump a bit. Luhan quickly stood up, running his hand through his hair and opening the door slowly after dashing towards it, leaping over bags of broken and ruined paintings that he would later bring to the dumpster down the street.

“Hey, Baekhyun.” He mumbled tiredly, running his wrist over his eye, knowing his hands weren't so clean from the dust and stained paint. A smile flashed through the younger’s teeth, his face peered around two stacked boxes that he struggled to carry steadily. 

“Mm, good morning, Lu!” Baekhyun trudged past Luhan and into the workshop without permission, as the aches on his frail hands mattered more to him at that second. A loud sigh of relief and small mutters of complaints made Luhan’s half lidded eyes flutter open wider, closing the door slightly before plopping down on a stool after bringing one out for Baekhyun to sit on. After a pause of silent in slight tension, Luhan blurted, “How is work?” 

Eyes rolled quickly before the plastered smile wiped off the brunette's face. “Should you even be asking?” Baekhyun’s eyes flickered away, crossing his arms tightly with strong hurt reflecting through his dark brown orbs, making the brown trench coat tighten around his somewhat toned arms.

The artist stared at him expectantly, knowing his pattern of rants and problems very well. He assured Baekhyun that he knew what would happen in the next seconds, as Luhan leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees that wrinkled his slacks further. His eyes bored into Baekhyun’s hesitant ones.

“I-I'm just not getting… uh, business anymore! No biggy, right…? Uh, the side of town I'm on is so slow and quiet. I get a mom ‘n’ pop stop by once in a while, but that’s about it.” His voice trailed off into embarrassed mumbles, even though he knew his friend wasn't doing much better than himself.

“Are you sure…? But don’t you ever get a bunch of tourists? You have so many native flowers from here and from back home.” Luhan took out an x-acto knife, crouching down to reach the boxes on the floor. “Only the one with the pink boxing tape, please,” was Baekhyun’s mumbled request. “Anyways… Your home is where I get native flowers, not mine. Seriously, though. In a week, one or two tourists come by asking how to get around Venice. Honestly, Venice is huge, and you're so on the wrong and dead side of town.” Baekhyun huffed, slowly sliding off his trench coat as his frustration was heating him up a bit, hanging it loosely on the rusting coat rack. A dry laugh left the artist as he took out the potted plant that was safely wrapped without suffocating it.

“It's not funny, damn you. I literally have nothing after this, idiot!” Baekhyun shouted with anger cloaking the big obvious billboard of fear of disappointment. Arrows, bright ones, vibrantly pointed at the said billboard, Luhan staring at him in sympathy, soon to be empathy.

“…Sorry.”

Another long pause.

The wilting florist sat there, eyes flickering around the stained wood floor in zoned thought. Before Luhan could apologize more sincerely, the younger jumped up to his feet and clasped his hands together, putting on a soft, sweet smile.

“Never mind, never mind! I'm here for your flowers, not my drama. The day is going by fast, so I should let you start as soon as possible!” Baekhyun was talking a tad too energetic for Luhan to buy it.

“Wait-“

“So this is the Brahma Kamal flower! I think these really capture your essence.” Baekhyun unwrapped the sets of the beautiful ivory white flowers, a much happier sigh than before escaping his parted lips.

“Really…?” Disappointment was hinted in Luhan’s tone. “I was thinking red described me more.” He mentioned as he gently lifted at the pearly petals to feel the texture. He glanced back at his mediums sprawled on his desk. _Pastels, definitely._

“Huh?” The florist blinked, eying the elder from head to toe, clicking his tongue as he pondered a bit longer, making Luhan a bit uncomfortable at the intriguing look in Baekhyun’s orbs. “Nah. Definitely these. I’m sure you’ll feel it when you paint.”

Luhan pursed his lips as he pulled his stool closer to his canvas, mumbling, “Well, what’s the story with them? Why these-“

“They’re a night blooming flower named after a Hindu god who-“

“Yeah, yeah… history and stuff. I slept through that class.”

“Wait, Really? _You_ slept through history? But your artwork is so captivating. I wouldn’t think you out of everyone would sleep through it. I assumed you like history”

“I have no history. But, continue.”

“Mm… They’re native to China….”

Baekhyun trailed off, studying Luhan’s facial expression for a second just to make sure he didn’t hit back home. “Uh, they bloom once a year at night and could be used for medical uses. These flowers heads are actually purple, and are enclosed in layers of greenish-yellow boat-shaped cover papery.” He tilted his head with another flash of a toothy smile to finish of his description. He stayed like that until the lack of response kind of scared Baekhyun. At this point, he was scared to lose another person due to his recklessness. 

“I don’t get it.”

 _Oh, thank god._ Baekhyun's heart rate slowed down. Wiping the small bead of sweat off his cheek before continuing his description. "I just think you're unique and that you hide so much potential from people. The hidden petals of colors bloomed once a year. Oh, yeah! Mountains. _Hmm…_ Right, they grow on cold areas and mountains.” Baekhyun continued to ramble as he set the potted flower where he was instructed to, playing with the petals to get them layered and spread correctly. “I feel like in the cold, you will always rise higher than everyone else to finally expose your true self. Honestly… I think that’s beautiful.” He glanced up at him with eyes sparkling, pushing up the large spectacles up his nose, as it had slid to the tip. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty cool. Being a flower named after a god. I dig it.”

Baekhyun groaned, running his hand slowly through his chestnut hair. “Hyung…That’s not the point!” A giggle cut through his frustrated exclamation anyway, letting his hand fall from his hair to cover his face.

They could feel the weight of the atmosphere lift in the air, bringing at least the tiniest of curves to the corners of their mouths. Luhan could’ve sworn the dried paint on his acrylic palette became more of a vibrant, lively hue for a split second. But that could’ve just been the sunlight shifting through the windows.

“Well…”

“I think I gotta go talk to Chanyeol.”

Luhan blinked, quickly looking up at him in shock. “ _Chanyeol?_ Why him, all of a sudden?”

Baekhyun just shook his head quickly, jumping up to his feet and pulling on his tan coat, brushing off some dust to stall. He wasn’t good at it. “Uh…”

“I have to go, really. It’s too much to explain.”

Just like that, he heard the door to his workshop close loudly, some light weight papers flying off. He looked down back down at the beautiful flowers, glancing back and forth between them and the door’s four-paneled windows. Now, it was so quiet, and dull. Luhan’s previously bright orbs returned to their dark and focused state. Those flowers still were bright in his eyes, however. His friend had left an essence of joy that filled the brim of the white petals. Finally, it was something that gave a glow to his life even when he was alone. His friends used to make him happy, even when they weren’t there physically.

_Chanyeol…_

“It’s been two years, and he wants to talk to Chanyeol?” Luhan scoffed, grabbing the case of pastels and warm-toned paints and slammed them against the pine wood table, pulling himself closer before tying on his apron, staring at the flowers once more, quickly jotting down “Brahma Kamal”.

\- - 

He took a sharp breath, nervously playing with his delicate fingertips as his shoulders tensed more. The night was howling, cold breezes running shivers down his spine despite the tan coat around him. Baekhyun was so scared. No, he was petrified. Two years, it’s been. The way they had split was so abrupt and cold.  
His shaking brown orbs flickered up to the door when he heard the lock click and turn. Watching as the golden knob turned slowly. His cold hands balled up into a fist, sharp fingernails digging into his melanin-toned skin. Baekhyun reached for a blue flower in his coat's pocket but dropped his arm when the door swung open.

“Oh, H-Hey, Ch-“

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

He paused, leaving the small blue flower untouched. “…It’s B-Baekhyun.”

Awkward silence lingered in the space between the cold night and the warm house. Yet there stood the two of the opposite worlds. The warm boy, and the cold.

“Oh…uh. Come inside.” Chanyeol mumbled, placing a hand on the smaller one’s back.

The taller one ushered him inside gently, letting a soft exhale of relief leave Baekhyun silently, thankful that Chanyeol still had a friendly part to him. He didn’t know much about what happened. He only heard the rumors of what he’s been through. The interior matched the exterior of the house, shocking Baekhyun further. It really had confirmed parts of the rumors that had to do with the amount of success. His jaw hung open, eyes darting around the room of a theme with rose gold, even traditional Italian pieces touched here and there. Chandeliers hung beautifully, paintings framed with rich material, silk curtains elegantly tied with gold engraved lace. He immediately felt embarrassed at the difference between their lifestyles. No wonder Chanyeol lived so far away. Baekhyun had even noticed it was the high-end side of Italy. It was only noon when he left off for Chanyeol, but now it was evening.

“You can sit over there.” Chanyeol pointed at the velvety couch with not much effort in his gesture, going towards the kitchen to prepare some drinks.

"Sorry, I came here without notice. I just… need to talk." Baekhyun softly apologized, gaining his composure.

“Kind of bad timing, honestly. I came back from a tour two hours ago, and I’m really exhausted.”

Guilt made his eyes flickered away from meeting the boy’s pair of bold eyes, and he sat there quietly after murmuring another apology.

"The fans are so crazy. God, I even had to encore a few times. But my manager got me a couple more bucks for the extra rounds, so it's all good." Chanyeol grinned, pouring wine into two glasses.

The scent reached Baekhyun and he watched the blood red color slightly stain Chanyeol’s lips, waving his hands defensively when he was about to pour him a glass. “I-I don’t really drink wine.”

“Really?” Chanyeol still held the purple glossy bottle above the wine glass, blinking. “Are you sure? What about beer? Vodka? Come on, I don’t ever see you. It’s a way to celebrate.”

No, definitely around Chanyeol, he’ll never drink. He can’t trust himself, and that means he can’t trust anyone else. He didn't enjoy the danger and conflicting thoughts when the unappealing scent would reach him. The after effects of drinking seemed so terrible to him anyways. Despite all the things he has been through, he could never bring himself to become a person that drink his problems away. Again, he hesitantly shook his head with a firm answer. “No. Can I just talk?”

The younger sighed, slightly rolling his eyes before setting down the bottle, sipping from his own glass as he leaned against the edge of the cold countertop after adjusting his black hoodie. 

“Yeah, sure.”

Baekhyun took a quick glimpse of his surroundings before strictly looking Chanyeol in the eye, hints of how desperate he was slowly showing as he began to speak. “The business in my store isn’t working too well…I would want to relocate, but I can't with how much more expensive that is. At least a couple thousand. A-And…” His hands trembled as he made different gestures, his voice breaking as Chanyeol so far showed no signs of sympathy.

“I-I can’t lose this job, okay? My-My mother passed away last year, so it's all to myself since I can't afford to hire or pay employees. Please, I just really need a loan…" He pleaded, clasping his hands together with a spark of hope. The rose gold chandelier clearly illuminated the lack of care in Chanyeol’s expression, as he just sipped on his wine, licking his lips when he finished.

“Chanyeol, for crying out loud, I live in the basement of my floral shop! I don’t even have a proper home like you do. God… just look at this place.” Baekhyun exasperated, his broke feelings becoming frustration, throwing his arms up towards everything around the room. The little smirk settled on the singer’s lips completely snapped the last twig of respect he had for Chanyeol, making the elder grit his teeth in frustration.

“ _Without…_ ” His eyes closed tightly, taking a deep breath, and deciding to cut himself off.

“ _You wouldn’t be living here. You wouldn’t be such a jackass. You wouldn’t forget me. You wouldn’t leave me to die right here. You wouldn’t ruin the meaning of Chanyeol for all of us._ Every time we heard your name, we thought of the humble, unselfish, sweet one. But look at you now. Are you happy living like a king with people to rule over rather than ruling _with?_ Is that **it?”**

Still, not much of a reaction.

“I think I’m allowed to say I was the most successful out of everyone, because of my own efforts.” Chanyeol interrupted, brushing away bangs of color that matched his wine. 

“That isn’t anywhere true. The saddest part is that you can’t even remember who got you to your feet. You act like you were born with a bar of gold in your hand.” 

“Then, without who, exactly? **God?** ” The redhead jokingly scoffed.

“You treated him like your god, honestly. _Kyungsoo,_ Chanyeol.”

Finally, he caught the boy’s breath hitching, large eyes widening in shock. Baekhyun stood to his feet, feeling more confident in his words than earlier when he just entered. No matter how weak Baekhyun was physically, especially with his struggles, he knew Chanyeol’s weaker spots in the head.

“I think you should leave. Right now.” He breathed, clutching the bangs of his maroon colored hair as thoughts suddenly started rushing to him.

“Why can’t you just face your reality?! He showed you how much value you held, how much potential. He gave you your passion.” At this point, they stood not further than a foot away from each other.

“You’re wrong. You’re just…lying. You just want money from me. That’s the only reason why you visited me when it’s been two fucking years, Baekhyun.” He pushed him a foot or two away from him and towards the door, his gaze turning dark.

“Kyungsoo helped you so much. He sacrificed his chance at a big career for you to be a lot happier with yourself.”

“D-Don’t you remember that you left me in the dark when he was gone?! All you said was it’ll get better, it’ll get better. And now, I-I thought everything had gotten better. I was living for what Kyungsoo wanted, Baekhyun. But right here, right now, you’re telling me I’m doing everything all wrong?! Look at yourself! You’re asking money from me.”

“He wouldn’t want you sacrificing your passion for money.”

“He wanted me to do this so I wouldn’t repeat what my _parents did, okay?!_ Are you saying you feel like I should be like everyone else? You want me to be mentally drained like Luhan? You want me to be bankrupt like you?”

“No, I wanted you to continue what you **and** Kyungsoo were, Yeol.”

“Oh god… Please, just go. Away.”

“You took K-Kyungsoo away from all of us.”

“I-I didn’t. I didn’t do anything to him. W-Why do you all keep thinking that?!”

“He was sad because of you. You. _**You tore all of us apart.”**_

 _ **“I DIDN’T EVER HURT HIM.”**_ He slammed his balled fists against the granite counter top, breathing convulsively as the wine glass had shattered against the tiled kitchen floor beneath Chanyeol, red liquid slowly seeping across it. Tears were falling from his face, quickly staring down to hide his face. But anyone present in the room could clearly hear the soft thuds of the tears hitting the floor.

“My…M-My money goes to Yixing.” Chanyeol confessed, glaring up at him.

Baekhyun furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms. “Let me guess. For drugs and alcohol. Is that it?” With that being said, he turned around and quickly left the house, slamming the door a bit harder than he wanted, taking in deep breaths to hold back the tears that stung his eyes.

Suddenly, he felt the blue flower in his pocket, slowly taking it out and observing it, realizing it had a small label on them, and that this flower didn’t seem to fit Chanyeol at all anyway.

“Forget-Me-Not Perennial flower.” He slowly read, sniffling as he rubbed his eyes. A soft smile crept on his face anyways at the name, putting his hands together with the flower in between, closing his eyes and looking up at the stars.

_“Rest in peace, Kyungsoo.”_


End file.
